


Sticks And Stones

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 13:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13147980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: Cullen hears many things as the Inquisition grows. What bothers him most are the references to Adaar as an 'ox.'





	Sticks And Stones

Haven had developed a bustling economy in a short time. Admittedly, it had been built on the foundation of the village before the Breach had erupted, but it had still come together rather swiftly once the Inquisition forces had set up in the village. Seggrit was something of a pain, but he was keeping the coin flowing into the Inquisition’s coffers all the same, which was a necessary evil. Though if he tried to squeeze more money out of charitable acts, such as supplying healing poultices and potions, someone – someone with a very big, very sharp sword – would have to correct his behavior again.

Cullen had dismissed the men in the training yard for the evening and was returning to the Chantry, knowing that there were likely any number of additional reports from the scouts and agents piled up and waiting for him. The Herald had departed for Redcliffe, intending to speak with the mages. Cullen had his doubts about forging an alliance with them, though, he supposed, it could easily just be the biases he’d built among the templars. There was still that voice in the back of his head, the one with Uldred’s voice, with his mad laugh, that screamed for him not to trust any mages.

He attempted to shove that away. There were already mages among the Inquisition, and the Herald himself was a mage. Mages were not the unequivocal danger he’d spent years believing them to be. He needed to remember that, no matter how difficult it might be.

As he made his way through the various camps that dotted Haven, he couldn’t help overhearing the gossip. Most of it was the inconsequential stuff that Leliana would likely have some explanation of how it was actually beneficial to the cause, providing some valuable insight or another that they could utilize, but to Cullen, it was still nonsense that he didn’t need to know – who was meeting who in midnight trysts under the moonlight was of no consequence to him, provided no one developed frostbite as a result.

Then he heard it.

“...Herald is an oxman!”

“That can’t possibly be true. Andraste would never select one of THEM as her Herald.”

“It’s what I heard!”

“Then you must have heard wrong!”

Cullen knew that there would always been issues with the Herald being Qunari. He’d lived through the Qunari invasion of Kirkwall, as well as the years that built up to it, and knew that the Chantry and the Qun were always in conflict. 

However, he’d also been in contact with the Herald. He knew the man was no such beast of burden. Indeed, there was no reason whatsoever for this sort of disdainful remarks about him.

“The Herald is a Qunari,” he said abruptly to the gossiping Chantry sisters. “And you will refer to him with respect.” There was a note of warning in his tone – any sort of dismissal of Anaan Adaar purely on the basis of his race was not going to be tolerated in Haven, at least while Cullen had anything to do or say about it. He saw the surprise in the sisters’ gaze, apparently not having expected to be overheard.

“Knight-Captain- erhm, Commander.” Cullen was relieved the sister corrected herself, rather than forcing him to bring up how he refused that title as well. “We... I...”

“Were simply gossiping. And speaking insultingly of the Herald in the process. Now, I’m sure that you have other business to attend to. If not, I’m sure some can be arranged.” Come to think of it, he should speak to Mother Giselle and ask what, exactly, the Chantry officials who had remained at Haven were doing for the people in response to the Breach. The Chantry had neglected a lot of its claims of charity in Cullen’s experience, and if ever there was a time where the people of Thedas needed charity...

The sisters hurried along. So long as he didn’t hear more of the rather distasteful remarks made about the Herald, Cullen had every intention of keeping this between only the three of them. No need for the Herald to know how people were referring to him.

***

It would still be some time before the mages from Redcliffe would be ready to attempt to seal the Breach. There were many preparations to make. Cullen wasn’t entirely sold on the idea, although from what Leliana’s agents had passed on to them, the templars at Therinfal Redoubt had gone silent. They would have to make do with the mages. Perhaps afterwards, once the Breach was closed, they could investigate further. 

He didn’t set out to overhear the gossiping of some of the mage recruits, the implication that he felt they needed monitoring. But they were speaking loudly, as if they were asking for someone to overhear them and take issue with their words. 

“...give the oxman credit.”

“Maybe, but how can we trust him? He’s already brought in another ox! From what I hear, this one even follows their heretical Qun!”

“We should just abandon this Inquisition. It’s just a ploy to throw us back in the Circle!”

“They declared a Qunari the ‘Herald of Andraste.’ If it’s any kind of ploy, it’s for those heathenous grey bastards to show up and force us all to be their new servants!”

“Keep your voices down!”

Each of the statements stoked a fire in Cullen’s gut. Why were these mages even here if they wanted to abandon the Inquisition? And questioning the Herald’s motives? He’d given them the chance to prove that they were worthy of the trust that he was placing in them, of trust that they didn’t need templar oversight, and they were already planning on turning their backs on that kindness?

Before he could say anything, though, one of Leliana’s agents appeared, moving the mages along, flashing him a look, indicating that they were already on this matter. 

Still, Cullen decided to bring it up to the Herald himself. This was the second time that he’d heard members of the Inquisition being so openly disdainful of the Herald. It constituted a problem. Maybe a small one, but he’d seen in Kirkwall how things that seemed little became much larger problems. He’d ignored the minor problems in Kirkwall that had led to Meredith’s madness. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

And, as Leliana had recently pointed out in their strategy meetings, they needed an Inquisitor to lead the Inquisition. The Herald was the likeliest candidate, having become the face of it. But if the Inquisition itself didn’t accept him... There would be dangers and complications.

The Herald was in the cabin he’d convalesced in after the first attempt to seal the Breach. Cullen hated intruding upon him, but... He didn’t want to wait on such things.

“Herald?” A pause. “Adaar?”

Another pause, then a muffled sound of acknowledgement. Cullen entered the cabin and found the Herald of Andraste looking to him.

And he was not wearing a shirt.

Cullen needed a moment to remember where he was. He found himself unable not to stare at the solid rock of muscle in front of him. It wasn’t that he was unfamiliar with the sight of a shiftless Qunari, of course – the ones who’d attacked Kirkwall hadn’t worn shirts, and that mercenary band, the Bull’s Chargers, were led by a Qunari as well. But Anaan Adaar normally wore modest clothing. And... and Cullen couldn’t help but stare.

“Cullen?” The Herald’s voice managed to drag him out of his haze. “Cullen? What did you need?”

“Erm... I... I wanted to bring something to your attention.” He paused, then realized that the Herald was, unlike Cullen’s former templar superiors, not wasting time with waiting on the business of giving orders of when to speak. Cullen still hadn’t gotten used to the more relaxed atmosphere of the Inquisition’s chain of command, not helped by their lack of an Inquisitor. 

He cleared his throat. “I’ve been hearing... unpleasant things from some of the pilgrims. Regarding... you.”

“Disbelief that a Qunari heretic is the Herald of Andraste? I’ve heard.”

Of course he had. Because the gossips were not content to limit themselves to speaking only when the Herald was away, they’d spoken in his presence.

“I... I am sorry, Herald. You... shouldn’t have to be treated-”

“Like a Qunari? Like someone who doesn’t believe in the Chantry? The Maker? Andraste? I’ve heard it all before, you know. I’ve been a Qunari far longer than ‘the Herald of Andraste.’” There was a gentle smile on Adaar’s face. “This is nothing new for me. I’ve been ‘an ox’ more often than ‘Herald.’ I know how to handle it when people... start getting ugly.”

“I...I’m sorry to hear that, Adaar. Truly. I... I know that the Qunari have an... uncomfortable history, but... judging you on the basis of your countrymen-”

“They’re not even that, you know. I was born outside the Qun, which means I’m considered ‘Tal Vashoth’ by anyone from Par Vollen. Of maybe something else, I don’t know. The way Bull talked about it, there was a distinction there, but I’m not sure how much it really matters versus it being something that the Qunari say matters.” 

There was, despite the off-handedness of his remark, a hint of regret in his voice – whatever Anaan’s thoughts on the Qun, it was still his heritage. And he wasn’t able to explore it, given that the Qunari were notoriously tight-lipped about the details about the Qun unless one expressed a desire to convert. And it did certainly sound like he had little desire for that.

“They’ve also been referring to you as an ‘ox.’” Cullen saw the wince that brought to Anaan’s face. THAT was something that bothered him. “That bothers you.”

“Wouldn’t you be bothered by being referred to as an animal? As a beast of burden? I’ve had to endure it from employers before. They were paying me – or at least, the Valo-Kas – to do a job, most of our clients at least had the decorum not to use the term to our faces, but... It was still obvious in the way they looked at us, the way they treated us that they thought of us as little more than... animals.” The anger and frustration was just under the surface – it would be easy to ignore it, and it sounded like most people tended to do just that, if Anaan had even spoken of this before. 

Cullen looked away for a moment, remembering that in Kirkwall, ‘oxman’ had been among the kinder slang used in reference to the Qunari, especially after the Arishok’s attempted occupation. He had no exact memory of having used the term himself, having considered his responsibility of Knight-Captain to set an example of decorum, but he was aware enough that there were likely some moments where he had used such terms he simply didn’t remember. 

He looked to Anaan again. “If need be, I’m sure that Josephine can offer a reminder to any of the pilgrims and recruits.” Indeed, Cullen could easily picture the Inquisition’s ambassador writing a scathing reminder of how, if nothing else, the Herald deserved more respect than to be called an ‘ox,’ if they could stem nothing else.

Anaan didn’t seem impressed at that idea. “I’m sure that would go over well. How often do most people follow the reminder to treat their messiah as a person?” He shook his head. “It’s not a new problem, Cullen. I’ve learned to accept it.” He sighed. “I’d like to get some sleep before we try to close the Breach.”

“Of course. I’ll... I’ll let you rest.” Cullen turned and exited the cabin, though he was sure that this would come up again.

***

Skyhold certainly made a difference for the Inquisition. This place felt like it was meant to house an organization like the Inquisition, something with the power to reshape the world. Here was where they could house an army, plan for war, and defend against an invasion. 

Despite their losses at Haven, the Inquisition seemed to have come out better for coming to Skyhold. 

Cullen was pleased enough at how things seemed to be coming together. They could certainly be better, but they had absolutely been worse. 

And, Cullen had to admit, it was better now that his head was cleared up. The lyrium was still calling to him, but... He could resist. He’d found the strength, thanks to Adaar reminding him of his own strength. He’d probably always have to worry about slipping, but... He could breathe easy.

The Inquisitor had called another strategy session among his advisors, which led to Cullen making his way off the ramparts and towards the war room. As he crossed the main hall, he braced himself, as the court gossip never failed to dig under his skin. He knew he should tune it out, but his training had ingrained in him the instinct to monitor everything around him. He hadn’t managed to turn off those instincts, nor did he believe it wise to give them up entirely at any rate. 

“...quite an accomplishment, I must say,” murmured someone with an Orlesian accent.

“Indeed. One would never have expected such political acumen from an ox,” responded another.

It wasn’t until the haze of red had retreated that Cullen realized that he’d struck the Orlesian fop. Josephine had emerged from her office and was already hastily attempting to smooth things over, flashing Cullen a look of concern. She knew of his struggles with the lyrium, seeming to believe that this was an act of the withdrawal.

“You are here because of the Inquisitor. You will not refer to him as ‘an ox,’” he spat out. He felt a flash of pleasure at seeing Josephine’s ministrations to the Orlesian turn cold – considering this was someone standing around the Inquisition’s main hall, this should have been someone who would show respect to the Inquisition – and its leader - who they were here, abusing the kindness of.

The Orlesian sputtered, seeming to recognize immediately that he had no way to win this argument, having been clearly in the wrong. Even the other Orlesians in the room recognized that he couldn’t make a counterpoint, and looked away from him. 

“Monsieur de Salle. Perhaps you should seek some ice. For the swelling.” Josephine had ascertained that the man would be fine, and, considering the shunning already taking place by his fellows, could abandon him to clean up the tattered remains of his dignity. She managed to somehow grab Cullen without physically laying a hand on him, and moving him towards her office, out of sight and where they could talk without being overheard. Despite her reaction to the Orlesian, she did not appear happy about events.

“While I agree that such blatant disrespect in our halls cannot go unremarked upon, Commander, making that kind of a spectacle is counterproductive,” she said, managing to sound uncannily like his mother when she was reprimanding him or one of his siblings.

“I... I didn’t intend that to happen, I assure you.”

“Then what did you intend? We are fortunate that the other assembled courtiers recognized him as being in the wrong. If they hadn’t, we – meaning I – would be making concessions that would only weaken our position with negotiations for an invitation to Empress Celene’s ball at Halamshiral.” The upcoming ball was the center of many of her current concerns and sleepless nights. Then Josephine’s expression softened. “Cullen, what is wrong? Is it the lyrium?”

He hesitated. It hadn’t happened because of the withdrawal, he knew that. It had...

It had been because that Orlesian had been insulting the Inquisitor.

Had been insulting Anaan.

It was like a dam breaking. He had feelings for the Inquisitor, and they’d been building for some time. He’d been so focused on trying to make it through the worst of the withdrawal, of being able to end his reliance on the lyrium, he’d ignored the growing feeling of affection for the Inquisitor, beyond his friendship. But now... With his head clearing, with him feeling like he could manage the symptoms of getting off the lyrium, those feelings were demanding to be heard.

“I... think I’m in love with the Inquisitor.”

Josephine was silent for a moment, then broke into a smile. “Thank the Maker. I was beginning to think that Leliana and I would have to lock you in the war room to get you to recognize it.”

That took a moment to sink in. “I... You knew?”

“Cullen, you have consistently stared at him more than any report on troop movement. In every meeting. It is quite obvious that you have feelings for him.” She got a gleam in her eye. “And I cannot say that there has been any lack of speculation among some of the Inquisition about your... relationship status.”

“Maker’s breath... Are we or are we not facing a war?” Of all the things for the Inquisition’s forces to waste their time on... 

She was not swayed from her amusement. “I must say, this is a rather romantic notion. You lashing out at a nobleman who dared to cast aspirations upon the name of your beloved... It is almost like something out of one of Master Tethras’s stories.”

“I hardly think Varric would write such...” Actually, Varric would, especially knowing that it would embarrass ‘Curly’ to have his personal business known so publicly. Cullen sighed. “Josephine... I just realized this myself. And the Inquisitor...”

Now Josephine’s look turned to pitied amusement, a look of ‘you poor fool.’ “Cullen. For someone who has been so observant of him, you seem completely unaware of how he has looked at you. Spending time around the both of you is enough to convince anyone that you both have these feelings, it’s just a matter of giving them voice.”

“We can certainly help with that. Can’t we Josie?” From the amusement in Leliana’s voice as she joined the two of them by Josephine’s desk, she’d been able to overhear most if not all of the conversation. Cullen wouldn’t even bother asking where she’d been hiding, knowing that she wouldn’t offer a straight answer anyway.

“Indeed. I have quite a few errands to perform around Skyhold, to take care of the needs of our guests, that I have been putting off. Please, Commander. Proceed to the war room.” Josephine’s command indicated she would brook no argument. Leliana nodded, an indication that he had no choice. Josephine gathered up some notes and made her way in the opposite direction, fully expectant that Cullen would follow her orders.

As the door closed behind Josephine, Leliana chuckled and shook her head. “Would that she were so observant of her own love life... Ah, well. That is what friends are for, no?” A pointed reminder of the consequences of not doing as Josephine had suggested. “I’ll be along in a while, Commander. I’m sure you and the Inquisitor have quite a bit to discuss.”

They were doing this out of friendship, Cullen supposed. 

He knew there was little choice – once Leliana involved herself, you were committed. He made his way into the war room, expecting that the Inquisitor would, if he wasn’t already there, he’d been there shortly.

Sure enough, the Inquisitor was along only a few moments later. He observed the absence of Josephine and Leliana with a raised eyebrow. “Funny, usually Josephine and Leliana are the first to arrive.” 

“They... had a few errands to run. Josephine said she’d been putting them off for a while.”

“I see...” The Inquisitor’s voice indicated that he didn’t quite, but he’d go along with it for now. “Well, we can go over some of the deployments, I suppose.”

A part of Cullen would have liked to go along with that as a distraction, to pointedly NOT bring up anything more between them. That part was silenced by remembering that Leliana had indicated that she now considered herself to have a vested interest in the results. That reminder came with a metaphorical dagger pushing him forward. At least, hopefully it was metaphorical. One could never be 100% certain with Leliana. 

“There... is something else that we should discuss.” Cullen took a steadying breath. “I... There was an incident in the main hall a short while ago.”

“I heard some buzzing on my way here. Though I’ve learned to tune most of it out.”

“Josephine would likely ask that I learn from you...”

That got a bemused eyebrow from the Inquisitor. “That sounds like this was more than an ‘incident.’”

Cullen began to rub the back of his neck, uncomfortable with being put on the spot. Granted, the spot was to an audience of one... But that one was rather important, now wasn’t he? “Perhaps. Josephine’s... already taking steps to smooth the ruffled feathers. I, erm... punched one of the Orlesian courtiers.”

For a moment, the Inquisitor was silent. Then... he broke into laughter. 

_Maker, he has a beautiful smile._ Cullen tried to keep his composure all the same, though with the Inquisitor laughing, he could see the humor in the situation, even if Josephine was still scandalized at the action itself. 

When he got himself back under control, Anaan was still smiling. “I’m sorry, I know that must be a diplomatic incident that Josephine has raked you over the coals for, but... In all honesty, I’m amazed you were the one who snapped first. I’d have thought I’d be the first to knock one of them on their ass.”

“If it’s any consolation, you were the reason for it.”

He blinked in surprise. “Me?”

“He referred to you as an ox.”

Though not directed at Cullen, that caused a dark look to cross Anaan’s face, one that made Cullen want to cross the distance between them, offer him some physical comfort. Instead, Cullen settled for awkwardly shuffling closer to the other man. 

“I told you I’m used to it, but... I have to admit, I’d gotten to where I didn’t think it’d happen again. Not after becoming the Inquisitor. When I’m not just a religious icon, but also the leader of this major organization...” He sighed, shaking his head. “I suppose stupidity and ignorance never go out of style.” He cleared his throat. “Well. Thank you for... defending my honor.”

“I’d do it again.” He felt the metaphorical poke from Leliana and Josephine. “I... I have a great deal of... affection for you, Inquisi- ...Anaan.” Cullen wanted to ensure that Anaan could not misunderstand. Using his name seemed the best way to show that to him. 

For a moment, Anaan was silent, and Cullen couldn’t read his expression. He examined Cullen for a time that seemed to stretch on towards infinity...

...and then Anaan broke into a wide grin. “I was really hoping you’d say that.” And with that, he closed the gap between them and met Cullen in a kiss. He cupped Cullen’s cheek, and Cullen couldn’t help a soft gasp of pleasure. When the kiss ended, they just rested their foreheads against one another. 

“That was... very nice,” Cullen managed to say. ‘Very nice’ didn’t quite encompass it – he couldn’t express himself better, not finding the words.

“I’ve been waiting to do that. For a... long time.” Cullen remembered the Inquisitor offering some gentle flirtations back at Haven, but respecting it when Cullen had begged off, his concerns about his attempt to break his dependency on the lyrium making him believe he was in no place to have a relationship with anyone. And perhaps he was still rather close to that dependency... But Anaan had helped him through it already. He’d been there for Cullen’s darkest memories and feelings. 

He almost expected that Leliana and Josephine would barge into the room at that point, but they still had the room to themselves. “Anaan... I think we might be better off... discussing this further somewhere where we might have more... privacy.”

“True,” Anaan rumbled, his voice soft but full of desire. “I’m sure Leliana and Josephine are probably listening at the door, waiting to find out what we’re up to.”

That, Cullen could certainly imagine. And, much as he wanted to spend his time with Anaan – not as colleagues or companions or friends, but as something more, perhaps a great deal more – there was still the persistent threat of Corypheus, the red templars, the Venatori, anyone who would stand against the Inquisition. 

Still, Anaan and Cullen lingered next to each other, holding close. Neither wanted to pull away first.

Of course, they still jerked back when the doors to the war room opened, admitting both women. 

“Please, say we did not interrupt anything,” Josephine said, looking desperately disappointed at the possibility that they’d broken the mood before anything had happened.

Leliana, however, was openly smirking. “If we did, I don’t think it was a disastrous interruption, Josie. I do believe the Commander is not normally quite so... flushed.”

Cullen flashed them both a scowl that was entirely good-natured, without any anger behind it. “Don’t you both have things of greater import to deal with than our romantic lives?” he asked.

That seemed only to confirm what Leliana suspected to the both. They shared a look. “You are right, of course, Commander,” Leliana said, moving to her customary place at the war table.

“Though,” Josephine added, “if the two of you would like to... leave early to attend to other ‘business,’ I think we’d find a way to manage.” The smirk was more implied on her part, but it could be heard plainly.

“Thank you, both of you. For now, let’s just get down to business, shall we?” Anaan said, gently poking them back to their supposed purpose.

Still, as Cullen returned to the advisor’s side of the table, he flashed Cullen a smile – they would be addressing that ‘other business’ soon. 

And Cullen returned his smile, looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, I really want to grab any of the people who call my Adaars 'oxman' by the neck and watch their eyes bug out like a squeaky toy...


End file.
